Monsters and Dreams
by onoheiwa
Summary: A journey through Kurogane's mind, the mind of the warrior who's afraid of his own strength, who's always afraid of what he could become if he loses control. Chapters are not linear.
1. Chapter 1 Monsters and Dreams

**Chapter 1 Monsters and Dreams**

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"Can you feel the air? Can you see the heart of your lover beating its last time, lying forgotten on the ground? Do you see every last drop of blood pooling through the packed clay, soaking into the cracks of the earth, staining it, polluting it?"

 _Everything is dying_.

The flesh of humanity was not meant to decay in such profuse quantities. The land whimpers under the weight of so much death. Worms and insects drown in the swamp that swept the planet overnight. Even the flies have all died, burst to pieces from the abundance of meat to gorge themselves upon. The plants wither and wilt, all water long since corrupted, strains of copper and ruby running like rivers through their veins and dripping back into the saturated dirt.

 _So much death._

Bodies lie in mountains – disjointed, broken, mangled, and mutilated. Scalps torn apart, faces shredded, limbs ripped and severed, skin burned; gouges and holes, ragged and ugly.

One remained standing. One was still alive, alone amid the carnage and completely clean but for the blood dripping from the tip of his sword and the gleeful smile on his face.

.

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He woke with a gasp, reaching for his sword and fumbling when he realized it was not in his arms. He was lying in a bed, too, a position he was long unaccustomed to for this very reason. It was so much easier to sleep soundly enough to dream when he was completely comfortable and not ready to fight at a moment's notice. He calmed as soon as his fingers closed along the leather grip of the hilt where the blade was resting on the floor next to him and he let out a slow breath, deliberately trying to calm his racing heart.

"Kuro-poo sounds a little upset." Fai's voice drifted softly from across the short space separating their futons.

Kurogane looked over at the magician where he lay with closed eyes pointed up toward the ceiling. He huffed but did not comment.

Fai cracked an eye open and turned a quick glance to the swordsman. "It's not like you to be frightened of anything."

"Who said I was frightened?"

Fai just chuckled.

Kurogane sat up, resting an arm across a bent knee and placing his sword over his lap. It seemed he would not be getting back to sleep in the near future. "Not everyone can be as carefree as you, you know. Some of us have a conscience that sometimes keeps us up at night."

Fai smiled faintly for a brief moment before frowning and opening his eyes, turning to look at him fully. "I have been in the same room as you for months now, Kuro-chi, and I never remember this happening before."

Kurogane looked away, fixing his gaze on the wall.

"Kurogane."

"What?"

"You didn't answer me."

"You didn't ask anything."

Fai huffed, sounding impatient. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Magician." He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the wall, refusing to look at the other man's face, but Fai got out from under his blankets and crawled across the floor. He gripped Kurogane's chin and forced his head to turn, blue eyes narrowed in concern and frustration.

"Why have you not had a nightmare before now if they're as normal as you make them out to be?"

Kurogane finally looked up, expression resigned. "I don't sleep."

Fai's eyebrows knit in confusion. "You sleep all the time."

"No, not really." Kurogane reached up and gently pushed the magician's hand down, turning away again. "I'm always aware of my surroundings when I sleep upright like I usually do. I trained myself how to get the rest I need while never actually needing to fall completely asleep."

"Why?" Fai asked after barely a moment's hesitation.

"I'm not the man I used to be. I don't crave power like I used to and the idea of killing doesn't sit with me nearly as well anymore. But I'm always afraid part of me will lose control. That I'll go back to that time when I didn't cringe at the idea of my blade dividing flesh and I'll become as much of a monster as the demons my people fight. Sometimes my mind shows me what that might look like, if that were to happen."

Fai's eyes widened in understanding. "You're afraid of your dreams."

Kurogane stared blankly ahead. "Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2 The Swordsman's Nightmare

**Chapter 2 The Swordsman's Nightmare**

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Fai was not sure how it had happened. Between one breath and the next the world had fallen apart, the earth shaking under the roar of fury echoing across the barren landscape. The darkened sky, scattered with hazy clouds breaking up the crimson light of the dying sun, made the rocky ground look eerie and dangerous, the scattered brush offering little in the way of life or attractiveness. The magician wondered how he was even able to breathe with no plants to convert the noxious fumes from the underground fires into oxygen. Small and jagged hills dotted the horizon, breaking up its clean line though not so much as to be impassible or even difficult to traverse. Altogether, it was a barren and dismal land and it should not have been a surprise to find dangerous individuals living in it.

Whether the whole of this world was as depressing as this area could not be determined, though it mattered little. It was bad enough that poor Mokena could not control the location of their landing and had dropped them in the middle of a desert, roamed only by bandits and thugs patrolling the area and hoping to chance upon defenseless travellers. Their little band was anything but, but even they could be caught unawares. Perhaps the emptiness of the land, silent except for the wind and a few snuffling rodents buried in the dirt for the countless days they had wandered, had led to them becoming relaxed and lazy. Not even Kurogane's sharp senses had heard the approaching band until their camp was surrounded, weapons directed at them on all sides and hostility heavy in the air.

Syaoran had stepped forward, as usual, to explain their doings and ask for help but had been summarily shut down by a spear thrust under his chin before he could speak more than a handful of words. Kurogane had tried next, attempting the more gruff but straightforward approach, calmly but sternly telling them to back off before things got ugly. None of them noticed Sakura serenely stepping toward the nearest vagrant, smiling sweetly and trying to bring about a peaceful solution like only she could. None of them were prepared for the man to lash out, striking the princess with the back of his hand and holding a gun to her head where she had fallen to the ground.

Syaoran, standing only feet away, had quickly jumped in front of her, redirecting the muzzle of the weapon and guarding his beloved with his own body. Fai had felt righteous anger flooding his veins and was prepared to disintegrate every last man down to dust when Kurogane's roar had thundered across the plain.

His sword unsheathed and glinting ominously in the dull red light, eyes blazing like fire, the swordsman leapt at the nearest attacker, removing his head from his shoulders before anyone had the chance to take their next breath. Cardinal tears fell from the blade and splattered through the air, smattering against the dead man's companions, their eyes widening in shock, barely even registering the monster they had unleashed before they too fell to the earth decapitated and dying.

Blood fell like rain as Kurogane practically flew across the ground, felling each and every thief in a matter of moments, his sword flashing faster than sight, removing limbs and ending lives with finesse and terrifying grace. Fai looked on in awe, hardly able to breathe, admiring the beauty inherent in the swordsman's fighting ability, the elegance with which he swung his blade, the speed with which he moved, the masterful control of his body and how smoothly he directed each turn, each step, each pivot and slide and thrust and cut. He was a reaper, lost in his dance and glorious to behold. He had never been more frightening nor so beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3 Bloodlust

**Chapter 3 Bloodlust**

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 _Weak. Pathetic. Powerless. Frightened. Still a child. I have to become stronger!_

 _No one else can die. No one else can get hurt. I have to protect them, I can't fail again! What has all my training been for if not to protect everyone that I care about? What's the point in having a sword if I can't use it? Why even bother training if I can't kill any demons? Useless!_

 _I have to become stronger!_

 _._

 _._

 _Still weak. Still so weak! Pathetic, weak demons! So easy to kill. Not worth my time, not worth the effort. I have to become stronger!_

 _They need me, they need my help. The other warriors fight day-by-day to protect this land and its people. I have to become stronger. No more training, no more practicing, no more drills and dummies and simple, easy, pathetic, weak prey! I want to fight!_

 _I have to become stronger! I have to protect everyone! No one else can get hurt, no one else can die. Just those filthy, monstrous, evil demons! They have to die! And I have to become stronger._

 _._

 _._

 _Yes! Yes! Victory! Blood! Black, viscous gore staining my sword and dripping from my hands. Look at all the blood, such beautiful, ugly blood! So much demon filth, all wrought by my blade. So many monsters dead and harmless, never to rise again. Dead, dead, dead! Defeated! I killed them all, split them in two and protected the border by the blood spilt on the ground._

 _More, more! Let them come! Let them taste steel and fear! Let my sword slice them open and cleave them apart! Let them all come. Let them all die. Their deaths will make me stronger, each monster I slay will bring me strength._

 _I will defeat all my enemies, I will become stronger and no one will stop me!_

 _I need to become stronger!_

 _._

 _._

 _Too easy. All to easy. This prey is weak, these demons are weak, these men are weak. All of them die so easily, so quickly. All fall to my blade. Enemies with black blood, enemies with red blood. Human. Monster. All die, all bleed so readily for my Silver Dragon._

 _Weak! At least give me a challenge! At least make it difficult for me! I can't become stronger like this! Stronger! Stronger! I need to become stronger!_

 _._

 _._

 _Die! All of you are worthless! All of you are weak! Pathetic! Simpering like children and falling like flowers in a storm! All of you are weak!_

 _What happened to the strength of the warriors? Where did all your power go? I spent my whole life admiring this? Spent so many years seeking strength from you? Weak!_

 _Fight me! Give me a battle worthy of my Silver Dragon! Make me fight for victory, make it a challenge, a struggle! Make me bleed!_

 _Kill me if you can you useless men. I want to see you try. I want to see you fight in vain, winging your sword till your arms grow weary, using all your strength to the very end when I cut you down and take your life and become even stronger for defeating you. I want to see you bleed._

 _The Silver Dragon will eat your flesh and drink your blood. I will feast on my victory! I will cut you down and watch you die, watch you bleed. I am the strongest warrior that ever lived!_

 _So just die, all of you! Fall before me and bow to my blade! I want to become stronger!_


	4. Chapter 4 Red Blood Red Grief Red Rage

Suwa falls.

The last chapter was a brief look at the progression of Kurogane from a young boy who wanted to protect everyone to a man consumed with the desire for strength. I wanted to go back to that young boy because I love this episode of the show, because Kurogane's story and loss have stuck in my mind so vividly since the first time I saw it, and because I didn't do nearly as much with those memories as I needed to. So here is his rage, his grief, as best as you can describe the mind of someone who is overcome with it.

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The young boy trembled in grief, eyes bulging out of his head as one fragile hand clung desperately to the heavy folds of fabric that lay draped across the floor. Dark hair spilled out across the ground, the strands tangled and caked in blood and trailing like the forgotten web of some monstrous creature, broken and torn where its prey had broke free and ravaged its prison. The white kimono was saturated, its owner's lifeblood running in tiny rivulets to the ground and spreading a stain that darkened the wooden floors of the castle.

The blackened sky cast all into shadow shot through with red from the dim moon as if the sky itself was bleeding. Demons swarmed the land, crushing the outer rampart under heavy feet and sturdy claws, trampling homes and people alike, the sounds of crumbling stone and muffled squelching drifting over the castle walls. Shrieks rent the air, some of horror and some of painful agony, and flashes lit up the sky as body after body was turned to stone. The smell was terrible, the stench of death rising up from the tainted earth - blood and entrails and excrement fouling the air.

Through hazy eyes, the boy looked up at the monster that had torn through the roof, its red eyes cold and indifferent despite the fire within that made them glow. The massive body heaved with its breath, shaking the ground along with the trampling of its brethren and the pounding of feet of the villagers as they scrambled for safety. The lifeless gaze seemed to pin the monster in place, holding its eyes and its bulky body. The young Lord of Suwa held command even over the monsters that crossed within the bounds of his land and the monster remained motionless as the boy's grief-clouded mind made sense of the calamity that was overwhelming the world, _his_ world.

His mother, a gaping maw through her chest on the floor behind him, her blood pooling under and seeping between his toes. His people, screaming and dying in droves, their bodies littering the streets and the walls; their blood a river, an ocean ankle-deep through the streets and slicking the weapons and flesh of the few who still tried to fight through the gore, through the fear.

Eyes of red looked up at the monster ravaging his home and saw a silver blade, dripping the black plasma of demons, and an arm, the head of a black dragon snaking across the flesh turned to stone.

 _No._

Eyes of red looked up at the monster that dropped all that remained of the former Lord of Suwa.

 _No!_

Eyes of red stared without comprehension as the arm shattered, bits of rock scattering across the blemished wood and the sword struck through the floor, a silver dragon with a tail of deadly steel; his father's blade.

 _NO!_

A rich, deep voice filled his mind, the last instruction, the last wisdom imparted by the Lord of Suwa. "Remember, strength is not for yourself, but to protect the people that you love."

The voices of his people rose up from the earth, screams of terror piercing his ears and churning in his belly. Fear and death sat heavy in his mouth, tasting foul like metal and a lump on his tongue. With each drop of blood he saw spray through the sky, with each howl ending with sickening crunch or a muffled cry or the sudden silence of lungs turned solid, with each inhale doused in the scent of iron and broken flesh, his people died. The lights of Suwa flitted out one by one, the darkness of the sky enveloping the earth. Even the gods were silent, letting the catastrophe go on and on, ignoring the prayers grasping and straining for Heaven with blood-soaked fingers. They were helpless, completely at the mercy of their doom with no priestess to carry their pleas and no Lord to protect them.

The boy reached out and caught silver scales, fingers trembling as they gripped tightly, wrapping around the hilt. The boy heard the dying howls of his people, felt the sticky gore from his Mother's veins under his feet, saw the flakes and bits of crumbled stone of his father's body and knew grief, knew pain, knew despair. He felt loss so deeply it hollowed out his insides and gutted him, leaving him wishing he could lie down and die, gasping out his final breaths with his arms around his Mother and his Father's sword by his side. He looked out at the broken ground, the shattered walls, the ocean of blood and maimed bodies and remembered his vow to protect and he _raged_.

Red red red red red red _red!_ Red eyes, red blood, red sky.

Red grief that fogged his mind and dripped from his eyes and flushed his face.

Red blood dripping from his hands, his sword, his sleeves, his feet, splashing with every step and falling from the mouths of demons like rain.

Red sky tainted by the red moon that ached from the sorrow of the land underneath its glow.

Red sky clouded by the mist of blood that clogged his every breath, sprayed from countless bodies and hanging suspended in the air.

Red rage swallowing up his vision, turning everything in sight crimson and hazy.

 _Monsters! Demons! They took EVERYTHING FROM ME! Kill them! Kill them! KILL THEM!_

Nothing mattered but the death of the next monster, nothing but their black ichor falling in rivers and washing away the ocean of red.

So much blood. He was soaked in it, he was running on it, he was swimming through it and he was spilling it. It seeped into his skin and clung to his eyelashes. It coated the inside of his mouth and throat and consumned him, enveloped him till he felt like he was sweating it out of his pores. He was drowning in blood and he reveled in it, shivered in the ecstasy of cloven flesh and defeated enemies. His body thrummed and sang with scarlet euphoria chasing away fear and grief and memory. Thought was swallowed by a crazed lust, a mad desire, a wild yearning for death, for strength, for blood.

His conscious mind was slipping away, sliding through the tendrils of sanity that attempted to grasp onto them, to hold him together, to maintain his self. There was the fleeting impression that his soul was splintering, shards of it falling to the earth and dissipating on the wind, and then that too was guzzled up by fury.

He was lost in his own wrath, scattered by his own savagery, quelled under his own strength.

Hagenamaru disappeared.


End file.
